Our Shadows
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: As patient (and as supportive) as I am of the slow Waige development on the show, apparently I really need them to get hot and heavy because this happened tonight. It's not quite smut, but it's close.


**This has zero plot. I guess I just really needed Waige to be hot and heavy and since it won't realistically happen on the show to this extent any time soon, I guess I had to write it?**

* * *

Their lips seemed to be held together by a magnetic force as their heads both twisted to avoid bumping noses, and then Paige was staggering backward. Walter reached for her, catching her hips between his hands and realizing as he did so that it was the force he was putting into the kiss that caused her to temporarily lose her balance. As his hands closed around her hips, her hands came up to his chest and curled around his shirt, using it to pull herself close to him again. Their lips came briefly unlocked – an instant that felt like a surprisingly painful eternity to Walter – and then she was asking to deepen it, he was feeling something oddly like hunger, and her bottom lip was between his teeth and between the combined actions of both their hands there was no separation between them from chest to knees and it still, strangely, wasn't enough. Walter had never felt his clothes were an inconvenience, in fact they'd always been something of a treasured barrier to him, but now, now, now. Now the fact that there was fabric separating his skin from Paige's was agitating and he felt his fingers digging into her hips in an attempt to get more.

Her hands were moving. One slid up to his jawline, which could have shifted the setting from moreso heated to moreso romantic if her other hand didn't slip between the buttons of his shirt. Her tongue traced his lips and he shuddered, feeling the sensation shoot through his body as if he'd been hit with an electric shock.

His hands moved from her hips to slide under the bottom of her shirt, feeling for the warm skin underneath and finding it. He felt her react to his new touch, and he wondered at the feel of her abdominal muscles as his hands roamed upward. Hers had managed to undo the top two buttons of his shirt and he wondered why, why was she working his from the top and he hers from the bottom, when what he wanted so badly was skin to skin and this was the least efficient way to go about it. He could remove his hands and go to the top of her shirt – she was wearing buttons too – but he didn't want to break the contact he had, even for a second. His hands slid around to her back and pulled her back against him, feeling the warmth of her through his shirt and making a low sound deep in his throat in reaction to the torment. His readjustment pinned her hands between them, and she forced them upward, her hands on his neck while she tilted her head to put her lips where it met his left shoulder, her tongue dancing on his skin, causing his eyes to fall closed again and her name to cross his lips.

One of his hands came in contact with the back of her bra, and he pulled away, stepping shakily backward, glad there was a beam behind him to prevent him from falling over. His limbs were all weak, he could feel his heart pounding from a good half dozen places, he was _bothered_ , he didn't want to be standing and he wanted to feel the length of her body between his and wherever they ended up, but her damn bra, that extra barrier between their clothes and each other, suddenly he was doubting, doubting himself, doubting this version of him that craved her the way he was now. He stared at her, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, breathing hard, wanting so badly to finish what they'd started but also so intimidated over _her damn bra_.

"Walter?" she asked, her voice full of air, her face flushed and her eyes searching his. Her body wavered, as if she wanted to close the gap between them but didn't want to push him too far.

"I, uh, I...I don't, um..." He put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. "I..." He let out a forceful breath, then looked up at her again. "I didn't want to stop."

Her lips twitched in the direction of a smile, then, arms hanging at her sides, she gave a small shrug. "I'm right here."

He eyed her, up and down, his eyes falling on hers again, aching to step back toward her. His body was alert; every inch of him hyperaware of her, where she was, how she was standing and the look on her face. If he thought he was observant before – and he did and he was – everything was amplified when it came to her.

"Only if you want to."

He nodded rapidly in response. "Y-yes," he said quickly.

"Then come here," she said. "Kiss me again, Walter. Like you did. Your lips around one of mine, holding me in place. I'll worry about the buttons. You run your hands over me. Make me shudder. Make me breathe hot air against your neck."

He knew what she was doing, talking him through it, helping him as she'd done before under completely different circumstances. She stepped toward him, slowly. "And we'll touch, Walter. And it'll be just us. Just you and me. Our shadows will dance against the wall and we'll forget there's anything else."

She put her hands on his chest, tipping her head slightly and alternating her gaze between his eyes and his lips and he couldn't take it, the gap between their mouths. " _Paige_."

The word barely had time to escape before their lips made contact again. This time, their hands moved fast, hers going from his neck to the buttons on his shirt, his returning to her hips to hold the against his as they shuffled backward. She pulled herself back to garner the distance between them and his bed, and seeing how close they were, she took the final step backward and lowered herself. He followed her down, beginning next to her as she tugged his shirt down his arms, wiggling out of hers at the same time. She scooted close to him, her hands on his jawline as she held their lips in place as if he _could_ pull away from her. His hands slid down to her hips again, tugging them against his, and she pushed them more firmly against him as a free hand tugged the rest of her buttons loose, finally, finally, finally giving him the contact he ached for. They were shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and he tipped his head back and sighed when her fingers teased his belt and her tongue skipped over his collarbone. "You feel good," he murmured, vocalizing the only thought in his mind. "Really, really..."

She raised her head and caught his lips between her own again.


End file.
